


Closer Than Before

by Zaffie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Positions, Forcible Hugging, Gen, It's Hard For Them, Prison Cell, Skye Is Not Impressed By This Situation, They Are Trying Not To Make Snarky Remarks, Tied together, Ward May Or May Not Have Concussion, Zip Ties Really Suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaffie/pseuds/Zaffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mission goes wrong (only a tiny bit wrong and it wasn't Skye's fault). The plane's resident hacker and her SO are trapped together - and by together, they mean literally tied up with their arms around each other. It's uncomfortable in so many ways (but Skye's still going to flirt if she gets the chance).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a bit of fun for me :) I'm not really sure how good it is, but it's an idea that I like (cliche tied-up fics, yay) so here goes! Probably only a couple of chapters. Let me know what you're thinking!

Ward opens his eyes and sees nothing but blackness.

     His head is pounding like a drum and he struggles to remember what happened. Where is the rest of the team? Is he alone here?

     Training kicks in. Think about the physical side of things first; where is your body? Ward focuses. His ankles are bound together – he tugs, and the plastic cuffs bite into his skin. Zip ties, probably. His knees are stretched out straight, he’s lying on his side and his hands are out in front of him. They’re cuffed too, with the same kind of material.

     There’s someone lying next to him. Ward feels breath on his neck, and weight on one of his arms. His arms are tied… _around_ somebody? Well this is going to be difficult to explain. He shifts, and realises that he’s lying on a lump that is probably someone else’s arm. So, okay, they’re bound with their arms around each other. It’s a little bit weird, sure, but he recognises it as a specific technique. He’s less likely to struggle if struggling means hurting someone else. It’s a quick and easy way to incapacitate a very physical prisoner.

     So now he can focus on the mental aspects. What happened? He dimly remembers the team spreading out as they entered the silent streets of the town, but it feels more like a story he was told than an actual memory. He suspects that he suffered a blow to the head – sometimes that can impact short-term memory. Maybe his partner will know more.

     “Hey,” Ward hisses. Are there cameras in this room? He twists his head around, searching for a telltale blinking light. There’s nothing. He shakes his arms, jolting the person between them as well, and says, “Hey,” a little bit louder.

     There’s a sort of snuffling sound in front of him as the person he’s tied to reaches awareness. Long hair brushes over Ward’s forearm; so that would make this either Simmons or Skye.

     “Skye,” he tries.

     “What?” she asks, and Ward feels a surge of triumph. “Ward?”

     “Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs. “Keep your voice down.”

     “Where are we?”

     “No idea.” He thinks it was a bit of a stupid question, although he tries to keep that out of his voice.

     “Whatever,” Skye says, obviously miffed. Ward clearly didn’t do a very good job. “Are the others here too?”

     “If they are, they’re unconscious,” Ward says. “What happened?”

     “Um, you were there.”

     “I think I have concussion.”

     Skye shrugs. He feels her arms scrape against his sides, and then she pauses. “Wait, are we, like, hugging? Forcible hugging? That seems kinda kinky.”

     “It’s a common imprisonment tactic,” Ward begins, but he hears a noise outside and snaps his mouth closed. Skye freezes stiffly in his arms.

     Whatever the noise was, it doesn’t come any closer. When there’s been silence for several minutes, Skye starts to wriggle. She tells Ward, “My arm has fallen asleep. You need to move.”

     He can’t think how there’s a way out of this. “We could try and sit up?”

     “No dice,” Skye says, “my legs are in the wrong place. Just roll onto your back or something.”

     “Then your hands will be pinned underneath me,” Ward points out.

     “Okay, so roll the other way.”

     “Then my hands will be pinned underneath you!” he protests.

     “Don’t be a wimp, Ward.”

     He sighs, and rolls sideways until Skye’s arm comes free from underneath him. Unfortunately, he’s now lying squarely on top of her and he doesn’t think she can breathe.

     “Skye? Are you okay?”

     “I feel much regret,” she says in a squashed sort of voice. “Let’s try and sit up before I suffocate.”

     Their positioning is incredibly uncomfortable for attempting a manoeuvre like this. Ward spreads his legs uneasily, and gets a knee on either side of Skye. He pushes and pulls at the same time and manages to bring himself up and drag Skye along with him.

     She says, “Oof,” and tumbles into his lap. Ward is kneeling on the cold metal floor, she’s straddling him and their arms are tied around each other. Tightly.

     “So,” Ward says.

     “So,” Skye agrees. “This is awkward.”

     “Can you lift your arms?” Ward asks.

     Skye shifts her shoulders a little bit and Ward quickly realises that they’re locked together very neatly. One of her arms is underneath his, and the other is over the top. It’s not a loop that she’ll just be able to lift off.

     “I can’t move them far,” Skye says. “My wrists are tied together. I could bend my elbows, but I don’t think that will help much.”

     “We’re not going to be able to walk around like this,” Ward realises. “I need to explore the cell.”

     “We can shuffle!” Skye exclaims. “Try and stand up.”

     Ward’s knees are folded underneath him. It’s going to be hard to move. “Okay, hold on,” he says, and then he rocks back on his haunches and heaves himself up, dragging Skye along with him.

     “Brilliant,” she says when they get up. Both pull away from each other, standing as far back as they can. Ward’s bound hands are pressed into the small of Skye’s back.

     They try to walk, but it’s a slow, uncomfortable shuffle which doesn’t get them very far. Ward has the nasty feeling that he’s about to lose his balance and topple over at any minute. “Stop,” he says eventually. “This isn’t working.”

     Skye slides her hands up and steps closer to Ward until their bodies are pressed together. “Okay, try this,” she says. She gets one of her arms resting on his shoulder and the other one in his armpit and then says, “If I jump, can you grab me?”

     “Maybe,” Ward replies uncertainly. He lowers his hands.

     “Ready? Go,” Skye says. She jumps and wraps her legs around Ward’s waist. Her arms are awkwardly twisted sideways, so that she’s diagonally hugging his body, but it seems to work. Ward slides his hands down and gets them under her thighs, holding her up.

     “This is good,” he admits. “It’s working.” He takes a few slightly unsteady steps forward and then his shoe lands on something soft and he slips and topples both of them back to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

“You _trod_ on my _arm_ ,” Fitz says, his voice filled with righteous horror.

     “And I said I was sorry, Fitz, can we please move on?”

     “I’m in a lot of pain,” the Scot continues. “I feel that you should know I’m in a lot of pain.”

     Ward groans hopelessly and Skye, with her head buried in his shoulder, can’t suppress a giggle. “Quiet, you,” Ward tells her sharply, but there’s no real sting in his voice.

     “Relax,” Skye snickers. “It could be worse.”

     “How could this possibly be worse?”

     “You could be tied to Fitz instead,” she laughs.

     Ward sighs. Skye thinks he tries to run his hand through his hair or something, because his arm jerks behind her back and smacks between her shoulder blades. He mutters something under his breath that she doesn’t think is particularly bright, and so she ignores him and talks to Fitz.

     “Is anyone else in here?” she asks the engineer.

     “I hope not, or they’ll probably have to suffer Ward’s great big feet as well,” he grumbles.

     “That’s it,” Ward interrupts, “we’re standing up again. Come on, Skye.”

     “Why can’t Fitz explore the room?” she protests, but Ward is already hauling her to her feet. They both wobble, and Skye fists her hands into the back of Ward’s shirt in an effort to keep herself up. She thinks she must have pinched his skin, because he jumps and winces, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

     “Jump,” he tells her instead, so she gets her arms ready and leaps up again. This time, when he catches her, Ward’s hands land squarely on her ass. “Sorry,” he says immediately, and he sounds so cute and flustered and absolutely mortified that Skye decides not to tease him about it.

     “Don’t walk me into any walls,” she says as he starts moving. She locks her legs around his hips so that his arms aren’t taking all of her weight, and rests her chin on his shoulder.

     “Ow,” he says, lifting his shoulder up in a one-sided shrug.

     “What?”

     “You have a pointy chin.”

     Skye rolls her eyes. “Wow, Ward, you really know how to give a girl a compliment.”

     “Just… move it, Skye.” He still sounds uncertain, as though he’s uncomfortable around her – which is completely ridiculous, Skye thinks, given that right now they’re about as close as two people can be (well, two people with clothes on, anyway). She lifts her chin and huffs out a breath and tries not to feel too unsteady as Ward lumps her around like a sack of potatoes.

     “I’m not tied to anyone,” Fitz says, sounding ridiculously smug.

     “Get up and help, then,” Skye snaps.

     There’s a thud, and then Fits says miserably, “I can’t get up. My hands are tied behind my back.”

     Skye’s about to fire off a suitably rude retort when something stabs her in the back and she yelps and her legs jerk and Ward loses his balance and topples over.

     “What happened?” he asks urgently when they’re lying together on the ground.

     “Something hit me,” Skye manages to gasp. She’s crushed beneath him again and the pain in her back is at unbearable heights. Pain, luckily, is one of those things that Skye finds easily manageable. She closes her eyes and bites her lip and gives herself a few seconds to just feel the pain and _damn it_ , that hurts. Then she opens her eyes again and pushes the pain down and focuses on Ward.

     “How can I move you?” he asks.

     Skye thinks about it. Whatever she hit, it was in the muscle of her lower back. She doesn’t want her back to move when she sits up. “Roll onto your back,” she says at last. “Then I don’t have to bend forward.”

     Ward must be worried about her, because he just moves, without arguing or complaining. Skye grits her teeth as they roll together, and then they stop and her hands are trapped beneath Ward’s shoulders. It’s not the worst thing she can imagine, though, so she ignores it.

     “Where does it hurt?” he asks.

     “What happened?” Fitz calls out at the same time.

     “We fell over, Fitz,” Ward says shortly.

     “My back,” Skye tells him.

     “Are you okay?”

     “Yes, Fitz,” Ward yells, and then he says more quietly, “Skye, tell me when it hurts.” He pulls the back of her shirt out from where it’s tucked into her jeans and then he slips his bound hands underneath. Skye yelps. “What?” he asks urgently.

     “Nothing. Your hands are cold.” A shiver runs through her entire body and she trembles against Ward. He pauses, but then she feels him shrug and his hands keep moving, pressing flat to her skin.

     It’s oddly intimate, she realises quickly, which is probably why she feels so strange about all of this. Just as she’s thinking it, Ward’s fingers encounter the wound and any sense of intimacy is gone. “Ouch!” she squeaks.

     He probes the area carefully. “You’re bleeding,” he tells her, “but it doesn’t feel too deep. What did we hit?”

     Skye shrugs. “I have no idea.”

     He moves his hands away from her wound and out of her shirt. “Okay. It’s time to get out of here.”

     “Sounds brilliant,” Fitz says sarcastically from across the room. “And I suppose you have a plan already thought out?”

     “Actually,” Ward replies lightly, “I do.”

     “Please share with the class,” Skye mutters into his shoulder. She shivers again, this time not from Ward’s touch. It’s actually cold in this cell, bordering on uncomfortable.

     He opens his mouth to explain whatever plan he might have, but he’s interrupted. A door right next to them cranks open with a screech of grinding metal and light floods the cell.

     “The SHIELD agents,” someone announces in a deep, gravelly voice.

     “Well crap,” Skye sighs. “Now we’re screwed.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

There’s a glimmer of metal as the door comes open, and Ward thinks, _the doorknob._ That’s probably what he accidentally stabbed Skye’s back into – and he still feels bad about that. She’s not blaming him, though, and she could if she wanted to.

     “They’re shorter than I expected,” someone says thoughtfully. A silhouette steps through the door, a long-limbed man, squinting man with a black hat and a cane.

     Skye snorts. “Right, because SHIELD has a minimum height, just like a carnival ride.”

     Ward winces a little bit, because Skye’s just confirmed that they work for SHIELD. It probably doesn’t matter, he tells himself. Whoever this man is, he clearly already knew – or suspected. There’s an uncomfortable niggling in Ward’s spine. He trusts his soldier senses, and right now they’re telling him that something bad is going to happen.

     A second man comes into the room, and Ward knows at first glance that this is the hired muscle. “Who do you want first?” the guy says in a low growl. The light glints sinisterly off his shaved head.

     The hatted man looks down his nose at them all. What’s scary about his look is that there’s no real interest in it. He could be choosing which flavour of sausage to buy.

     “The girl,” he says at last. “She seems to be talkative.”

     Instantly, the mercenary grabs Skye’s upper arm and attempts to hoist her off the ground. It doesn’t work, mostly because she’s tied to Ward. The man makes a frustrated sound and pulls a knife from his pocket. “They’re paired up.”

     The tall man rolls his eyes. “So pair him with the little guy and get on with it.” He takes a handkerchief from his pocket, dabs at his upper lip and walks away.

     The thug shoves Ward and Skye over and cuts Skye’s zip ties off. He pulls new ones from his pocket and reties her hands behind her back, then beckons to Fitz. “Get over here.”

     Fitz struggles to rise to his feet and the mercenary moves over to him with a curse. Ward grabs his chance with both hands and pulls Skye down towards him. “Don’t say anything,” he hisses, his lips brushing her ear.

     She pulls back and gives him a look so deep and unfathomable that he can’t quite catch his breath. “I would never,” she promises.

     The bald guy is back with Fitz now, tying the engineer’s arms around Ward. The men avoid eye contact, awkwardly. “Don’t do anything stupid, now,” the man says. He smiles, revealing the most revolting set of teeth Ward has ever seen, and then grabs Skye and hustles her out of the room.

 

The more time passes, the worse Ward feels. He and Fitz are sitting face to face, both with their legs stretched out, as far away from each other as they can get.

     “Skye’s been gone a while,” Fitz says at last.

     “Don’t,” Ward snaps at him.

     “Don’t what? I was just saying that Skye’s been gone for a long time, is all.”

     “Well don’t speak!”

     The engineer subsides into hurt silence and Ward mentally chastises himself. Fitz is probably just as worried about Skye as he is – and the rest of their team. Ward knows that Coulson and May can take care of themselves, but Simmons? He just hopes that she’s safe – maybe tied to May like he was to Skye, in an attempt to subdue the pilot.

     The door cranks open and the hired muscle drags Skye in unceremoniously. Dragging isn’t just descriptive, either – she is literally on the floor and he is pulling her. Ward goes to call out her name and then restrains himself. He grabs Fitz’s arm, hard, just as the engineer opens his mouth.

     Fitz glares at him violently and then says, “What did you do to her?”

     The big, beefy guy just snickers, so Ward hauls himself to his feet, bringing Fitz with him, and charges the guy. It’s not as dramatic as it could have been, probably because he has Fitz running backwards in front of his charge. The thug grabs them before they reach him, but they’ve forced him off balance. He topples to the ground and the two men land on top of him. Ward wastes no time. Using Fitz to keep the thug forced against the ground, he delivers punishing blows with his bound hands, feet and knees.

     Just when it looks as though they might actually have incapacitated the hired muscle, the tall man comes back into the room. He reacts fast, using his cane to force Ward and Fitz away from his mercenary. “George,” he says. “I’m disappointed in your work today.”

     The thug, or George, climbs unsteadily to his feet. “They caught me by surprise,” he says angrily.

     The tall man takes a gun from his jacket pocket and points it at Ward. “Don’t try anything,” he warns, and then he adds, “Tie him to the girl again. He’s not going to try anything if he risks hurting her more.”

     Ruefully, Ward realises that they’re right. With a gun trained on Fitz’s head, he doesn’t dare do anything as George unties Fitz from him and leads Ward back over to Skye. Within a minute, he’s back in the position that he started in.

     “We’ll see you soon,” George leers, and then he lumbers out.

     “Try not to do anything stupid,” the tall man adds. “I’d prefer not to send you back to SHIELD in pieces.” With that charming idea, he swings the cell door closed and leaves them alone.

     “Skye,” Ward says instantly.

   Fitz is panicking. “What’s going on? Ward? Is she okay? Is she alive?”

     Ward knows that she’s alive, because he can feel her breathing, her chest pressed up against his. They’re on their sides again, and Skye’s lips are touching his collarbone. Warm air brushes his skin. “She’s alive,” he says quickly, to stop Fitz freaking out. What’s scaring him, though, is that with the door closed, he can’t see any of Skye’s injuries. He can feel, though, and what he feels is that he and Skye are lying in a pool of blood. Skye’s blood.

     “She’s hurt, isn’t she?”

     “Yeah, Fitz.” Ward takes a deep breath. “It’s bad.”

     “So?” Fitz asks urgently. “How are we going to get out of this?”

     Ward has no idea. He has until their captors come back to think of an idea. “I don’t know, Fitz, why don’t you help me? Put your rocket scientist brain to good use.”

     “I’m not good at thinking under pressure,” Fitz grumbles.

     No one is, Ward thinks ruefully. “Just give it a go. I’ll… I’m thinking too.”

     There’s silence in their dark little cell. Ward focuses on Skye in front of him, breathing in and out, in and out…

     She stops breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, my bad. I totally thought this was going to be a fun fic! But, y'know, maybe a little bitty bit of angst. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

Ward shakes her, and says, “ _Skye!_ ” and then she sucks in another breath and he swallows, hard.

     He hadn’t been prepared for this, but now that the situation is here, he knows what he needs to do. Skye might be dying. He has to help her – and for that, he needs his hands free.

     “Fitz, come and help me,” he says as he struggles to stand and support Skye’s dead weight at the same time.

     “What are you going to do?” Fitz asks nervously. He’s using his body to try and hold Skye up, and it’s taking just enough weight off Ward’s arms.

     Ward leans forward without answering and presses his wrists against the sharp corner of the doorknob. Blood starts to flow, running down his hand, coating his skin. He works his wrists back and forth against the ties, lubricating the plastic. It hurts –it _really_ hurts – but he’s loosening his hands. He presses his thumb into his palm as far as it can go and then _wrenches_ his left hand backwards. Ward can’t help it; he cries out as the plastic ties rip off his skin, but the extra blood only makes things more slippery, and it’s easier for him to pull loose.

     Finally, his arms are free. He grabs Skye around the waist, helping Fitz to hold her up, and then says, “Lower her down with me.”

     They manoeuvre Skye carefully, until Ward is sitting on the floor and she’s sprawled in his lap. Her arms are still wrapped around him, so Ward carefully lifts them over his head, and then he touches her forehead.

     “How is she?” Fitz asks.

     Ward answers grimly, “She’s burning up.” Sweaty strands of Skye’s hair cling to his fingertips.

     He thinks Fitz is about to ask something else when the door squawks and starts to open. Ward swears, fumbles Skye’s arms back over his head, and presses his own around her body. He’s so close to her right now, he can feel her heartbeat right through her chest.

     George the mercenary comes in and hoists Fitz up without ceremony. Ward makes eye contact with the younger man as he’s dragged out, but that’s all he can do. Fitz tries to smile. It’s brave of him, Ward thinks.

     When the door closes, he untangles himself from Skye again and gently places her on the ground. With no light in here, he’s going to have to do this blind. He starts at the top of her head, and runs his fingers over her face. It’s weird, and slightly uncomfortable. He nearly sticks his finger up her nose, thinks, _whoops_ and then slides his hands down over her lips. There’s a jagged cut at the very top of her forehead, on her hairline. It’s shallow, but it’s bleeding a lot. Head wounds, Ward thinks, and he keeps going down.

     His hands encircle her neck, feeling for more injuries. There’s nothing obvious there, although he wouldn’t be surprised if she was bruised. He keeps going, and slips his hands under her sweater to touch her shoulders.

     The angle is bad – he can’t feel anything. Ward grabs the hem of Skye’s sweater instead, and pushes it until it’s bunched up under her arms. He keeps going, investigating as much of her skin as he possibly can for injuries. There’s a swelling on her ribcage, under the line of her bra. Ward lifts the edge of the bra away to feel more carefully.

     Skye wakes up.

     It would have to happen _now,_ Ward tells himself bitterly. “Don’t freak out,” he says quickly. He’s frozen, with one hand on Skye’s bare stomach and the other pressing up beneath the side of her bra.

     She tries to say something – probably an obnoxious and snarky reply – but gives in to a whimper of pain. The only thing she manages to get out is a whisper. “Ward?”

     “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m just seeing what happened.” Quickly, he pulls his hands away. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

     “My leg,” she manages. “That’s the worst.”

     Ward fumbles his fingers down to her leg, feeling the soft give of her flesh under his fingers, through her jeans. Skye shakes her head. “Other leg?” he guesses.

     “Yeah.”

     Ward moves his hands over, and feels instantly that something is wrong. Oh, god, is it broken? Please don’t let it be broken. This is going to seriously screw up any kind of escape plan he may have had. “Skye, your leg is swollen.”

     “Yeah.”

     “I’m worried about your jeans. They’re too tight around the leg.”

     “Skinny jeans,” Skye manages to bite out.

     “They’ve got to come off,” Ward says. He tries to sound professional.

     “Hell no!” the rookie agent exclaims.

     “Don’t argue, Skye.” Ward reaches for the button and Skye slaps his hand away.

     “I can undress myself, Ward, _geez_. I’m not five, you know.”

     He waits in the dark, kneeling beside her legs. Her hips shimmy as she shucks her jeans off and then she stops and he feels her body tense. “Skye?”

     “You might have to do the last part,” she admits.

     The top of her jeans is stuck around mid-thigh. Ward moves carefully, pulling her uninjured leg out first. “Bend your knee,” he says, and she does. Then he turns his attention to the leg which he’s pretending isn’t broken. (It’s totally broken).

     Honestly, the removal of the jeans is a long and excruciating process – for both of them, because Skye punches him in the nose at one point. She apologises later, claiming it was an accident, a muscle spasm that she couldn’t control. Ward doesn’t believe her.

     “I expect you to shield my naked form and save my dignity when the people come back with Fitz,” she tells him.

     He lies on top of her when they arrive. The bare skin of her legs is warm and Ward is embarrassed. He tries not to let Skye know, because she’d tease him mercilessly. For some reason, being half-naked beneath him doesn’t faze her at all.

     “Fitz?” Ward asks when the cell door is locked again. “Are you okay?”

     “I was punched!” Fitz exclaims indignantly. “Several times! My ribcage hurts.”

     “Can you take off your trousers?” Skye has started to shiver. Ward needs to get clothes back on her.

     “My… trousers?” Fitz splutters. “No!”

     Ward knows that the engineer is wearing cargo pants. They’ll be loose enough for Skye’s leg. “Please, Fitz. Skye needs them.”

     “You can have my jeans,” Skye coaxes.

     “Your jeans won’t fit me.”

     “Sure they will, you’re a skinny dude and you have no hips,” Skye tells him matter-of-factly.

     There is nothing Fitz can say to that without making himself sound defensive. He crawls across the room to them and squirms out of his trousers, which he hands to Ward. Ward gives him the jeans in return.

     “I’m not sure I can put these on with my hands behind my back,” Fitz admits.

     Ward doesn’t know how he ended up being team nanny, but he’s the one who helps both of them get dressed. Still, it achieves something. Skye is warmer, and Fitz isn’t only wearing his underpants.

     “Ward,” Skye whispers into his neck later, when he’s rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and keep her from shivering.

   “Yes?”

     “They’ll come for you next, you know that, right?”

     It’s been weighing on his mind, actually. “It’s going to be fine.”

     “How do you know?” She trembles in his arms.

     Ward tries for humour. “Because I’m a robot and I calculate a 99% chance that we’ll all make it out of this in one piece.”

     There’s a pause, and then Skye gives a weak chuckle. “That was a terrible joke. That wasn’t even a joke.”

     “I know,” he says quietly. “Try and sleep. You’ll feel better.”

     She curls into his chest and wraps her arms around him. For the first time since he’s woken up in this cell, Ward doesn’t mind having her this close.


	5. Chapter 5

Skye should have known that something like this would happen.

     Obviously she couldn’t have anticipated that Jemma would crash the plane into the cellblock where they’re being held, but in hindsight, it seems kind of obvious.

     At first, the crash shakes the walls and rattles bits of plaster and dust from the ceiling. The little flakes fall on Skye’s face and hair, waking her from a restless sleep. “Ward?”

     “I’m here,” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”

     “What’s happening?”

     He shrugs, and Skye shivers. Ward knows that she’s afraid. He can probably scent fear, like a dog. Luckily, Skye learnt a long time ago that it’s okay to be scared. She closes her eyes and leans against Ward and tries to ignore the throbbing in her bad leg.

 

The next time she wakes up, everything is quiet.

     “Ward?”

     “Right here,” he says, stroking her hair back from her face.

     “Did they take you for interrogation?”

   “Not yet,” he says, and there’s a little bit of a hitch in his breath when he says it.

     Skye says, “Maybe I should tie your wrist to mine so that they can’t take you away from me.”

     “Maybe you should,” Ward agrees.

     She clutches his shirt tightly when she sleeps again.

 

When she opens her eyes again Ward is gone.

     “Ward!” she yells, and then, “Fitz!”

     “Skye,” Ward says quietly. She squints her eyes and thinks she can see him, standing by the wall a little way away. “It’s okay, we’re just here by the door.”

     “It’s a keypad lock,” Fitz adds gleefully. “The bloody idiots.” He’s still angry about his interrogation. Skye can hear it in his indignant voice.

     “Can I help?”

     “Can you walk?” Ward fires back.

     She grimaces. Touché. “No.”

     “Well stay where you are, then,” he insists.

 

The door clunks open fifteen minutes later, and Fitz crows, “Yes! Tell me I’m a genius!”

     “You don’t need anyone to tell you that, Fitz,” Ward says. Skye can’t be sure, but she _thinks_ he’s making a joke.

     He comes over to her now, silhouetted against the faint light from the open door. “Hi,” she greets him weakly. Her leg hurts.

     Ward bends down. “Can you put your arms around me?”

     She does, wrapping them around his neck. Carefully, he lifts her up until she’s standing on her good leg. In an act of almost telepathic communication and understanding, Skye jumps just as Ward lifts her legs into his arms. She cries out in pain, and he gives a little grunt of exertion.

     “Sorry,” Skye says. “Am I heavy?”

     “Yes,” Ward replies. Skye wishes he wasn’t so honest. “But this is what we train for – situations like these. I should be able to carry you easily.”

     “Way to be modest, Ward.” Still, she holds on tightly as he follows Fitz out of the room, walking carefully so that he doesn’t jar her leg any more than he needs to.

 

The three of them proceed slowly through the passageways. When they’ve been walking for nearly half an hour, and the incline grows steeper, Skye tells Ward to put her down.

   “It’s no good exhausting you if we’re going to run into bad guys,” she says.

     She walks the rest of the way out of the underground bunker with Ward and Fitz on either side of her, with her arms slung over their shoulders. Ward’s arm snakes around her waist, giving her extra support. She limps – well, she hops, really – but she’s doing it by herself.

     They don’t run into any bad guys. Instead, they emerge into a pale pink sunset and find the plane parked on top of a group of buildings and the rest of their team standing and waiting for them.

     “Who did the great landing job?” Skye asks, because it’s pretty obvious that the plane has crashed.

     Jemma blushes, and raises her hand. “It was an accident,” she volunteers.

     “At least you tried,” Skye tells her, and then they grin at each other and Jemma rushes forward and flings her arms around Skye’s neck. She remembers the first time she hugged her scientist teammate – right after the idiot jumped out of the plane – and feels absurdly nostalgic.

     “Well done, Ward,” Coulson says wryly. “We were about to come down and get you all. Is everyone okay?”

     “Skye’s got a broken leg,” Ward explains. “Other than that, we’re all fine, sir.”

     “Not true!” Fitz protests. “I was punched. A lot.”

     “Oh, poor Fitz,” Jemma murmurs, pulling him into the hug with her and Skye.

 

It turns out, when they get back on the plane, that Skye’s leg isn’t actually broken.

     “Where did you get your field medical training?” Jemma asks Ward.

     He shrugs, and mumbles something non-committal, and makes excuses about why he has to wander off.

     Later, Skye turns up at his bunk. “Thanks,” she says, leaning against the door frame.

     “For what?”

     “Oh, you know. Rescuing us all, as usual.”

     “Any time,” he says, and there’s the hint of a smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

     “If I had to be tied up to anyone again,” Skye tells him, “I wouldn’t mind so much if it happened to be you.”

     He reaches out and squeezes her hand. “Neither would I.”

     “Initiating physical contact,” Skye teases. “That’s new, Agent Ward.”

     He smirks. “I guess there are still some things you don’t know about me.”

     “Yeah, but I’ve got plenty of time to learn.”


End file.
